


Cooling Measures

by Rhinozilla



Series: Detroit 07 [21]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor whump, Father-Son Relationship, Fever, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Heat Stroke, Hurt/Comfort, Poor Connor, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Sickfic, Some Humor, Swearing, cranky connor is unintentionally hilarious to me, so there he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-06-25 14:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19748086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhinozilla/pseuds/Rhinozilla
Summary: During a summer heat wave, Hank comes home to the front door left open and Connor not answering his phone. It turns out the android overheated at home alone, but luckily a neighbor was there to help...'Help' being the operative word.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so my neck of the woods is sweltering right now, and I'm not for it. I wrote this one kinda fast, just to get it out of my head. I dialed it back a little, going for a mix of H/C and a bit of humor over pure humor, otherwise it would have just been ridiculous. My brain is melting; have mercy on me.

Given the choice between summer and winter, Hank would always pick summer, even though he hated being hot. He hated being cold more. With the snow and the ice and the…Whatever. Even though the old AC unit in the house could barely keep up with the climbing temperatures, and the neighbor kids were squealing and shrieking as they enjoyed their summer break.

Hank grimaced as he drove past one neighbor’s house, where two young boys were playing basketball in the driveway. He turned up his music to drown out their playful laughter. The empty passenger seat next to him seemed especially loud, and he focused on that instead.

In a rare expression of doing something purely for himself, Connor had taken the day off from work. What the Hell an android did on a day off, Hank had no idea. Connor had given a vague shrug, only mentioning something about a project in the backyard. Hell, Hank hadn’t done anything but mow back there for years…and he had barely even done that. So he’d given the kid full reign to do whatever he wanted back there.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he was kinda curious as to what he was going to find when he got home.

The front door left half open was not what he had had in mind.

Hank brought the car to a stop in the driveway, turning off the engine and staring at the open door pensively. Immediately, the heat of the day was pressing into the car. He started to sweat in it, but he didn’t hasten to get out of the car. Instead, he pulled out his cellphone and called Connor. The other end of the line rang several times with no pick up, and he narrowed his eyes, hanging up and shoving the phone back into his pocket.

Not good.

He kept his eyes on the front porch as he slowly opened the car door and stepped out. He pulled his gun from its holster and held it in both hands. There were no signs of forced entry on the door or the frame, and he cast his gaze around for anything else amiss. There were wet splashes darkening the concrete sidewalk in front of the fence that separated his property from the neighbor’s. It looked like something wet had been dragged from one place to another, but the concrete wasn’t stained red or even blue. It was just…wet.

He hadn’t interacted with any of his neighbors in years. He didn’t even know any of their names anymore as people moved in or moved away. For years, it hadn’t seemed to matter, and if they thought he was an asshole for it, then that had been their problem. He didn’t think any of them would try anything funny when he wasn’t home though. At the very least, they knew he was a cop.

Maybe Connor had just forgotten and left the door open.

Hank’s face twisted at that ridiculous thought, and he approached the door. The summer pressed in thick and heavy, and the door hung open at him, letting him see straight inside his living room from the porch. He could hear Sumo barking inside, but the big dog didn’t appear as Hank crept through the front door. The living room was undisturbed, and the air inside was still cool enough to tell him that the door hadn’t been left open for very long. Whoever had left the door open might still be here.

The door to the freezer was hanging open, and he looked over and saw that the back door to the yard was left open too. He closed the front door and stepped deeper into the house. The bathroom door was shut, and Sumo was whining and pawing at the door on the other side of it.

Hank ground his molars and kept his gun ahead of him.

“Connor?” he called out tentatively. Then, more loudly. “Anybody here? Detroit Police.”

Only Sumo responded with more barking and whining.

Just as he was going to investigate the bedroom, somebody came rushing in through the back door. Hank immediately leveled his gun at the intruder, and the intruder screamed, dropping the large blue popcorn bowl in her hands. It was a girl, no older than 15. Hank just as quickly lowered the gun.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “What are you doing in my house?”

The teenager was somehow red faced and pale at the same time, giving her a blotchy look. Her hands had shot up in surrender, and her eyes were wide. Her green t-shirt and denim shorts were soaked all over the front, and her dyed purple hair was frizzing out of her ponytail and sticking to the sweat on her face.

“I’m sorry!” Her voice was high pitched with panic. “He—he was just—I didn’t kn—All I could th-think—“

“Hey, easy,” Hank grumbled, keeping his gun aimed at the floor and holding his free hand out toward her. “Take a breath. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

The girl slowly lowered her hands, breathing in sharp, panicky pulls. “Y-yes, but your-your-your—He was overheating, I think, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just—“

Hank holstered his gun, showing her both of his hands. “Connor? Where is he?”

The girl just sputtered, gesturing and leading him out the back door. Hank shouldered past her and out into the backyard.

Connor was easy to spot. From Hank’s vantage point, he was just a head and legs sticking out of a bright blue hard plastic kiddie pool that Hank knew for a fact he didn’t own. The three foot wide pool had been positioned under the shade of the tree in the corner of the yard, and it looked like the android had been manhandled into it. His knees were bent over the wall of one side of it, letting his legs lay on the grass. His head was reclined on the wall on the other side, a bag of ice pressed across his forehead.

“What the—“ Hank breathed, and then he was running across the yard toward him.

Connor didn’t react when Hank knelt down at his side. His eyes were half lidded, staring up at the tree branches without focus. He was still in the white t-shirt and old jeans that Hank had seen him wearing that morning. His skin was pale and thin enough in spots for Hank to see the creases in the plastic casing underneath.

“Connor.” He grasped the android’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake.

He could feel the heat radiating from Connor’s shoulder, and he alternated putting his hands on Connor’s head and chest, feeling the same dangerous temperature. He snapped his fingers in front of Connor’s face, still getting no response.

“Shit,” he hissed, lifting one of Connor’s eyelids with a finger. “C’mon, son, wake up for me.”

There were a few popcorn bowls’ worth of ice floating in the pool around Connor, and a black garden hose was looped over the fence from the neighbor’s yard. Water was rushing freely from it, still filling the pool and submerging more of Connor’s burning torso. It looked like he’d collapsed in the middle of the yard where all the yard tools and upturned dirt was. There were clear drag marks where somebody, Hank guessed that girl, had tried to move him to the house, found him too heavy, and gone for…this.

Jesus, was he looking at Plan B?

“He got too hot,” came a small voice near the tree.

Hank looked up and spotted a very young girl, maybe 5 years old, standing in the grass under the shade of the tree. She was wearing a pink swimsuit, and the sunscreen hadn’t completely soaked in on her cheeks, leaving a few big white streaks. She looked unfazed by Hank’s appearance, instead idly watching the unconscious android using her pool.

“Y-yeah, yeah, he did.” Hank had to shove the knot in his gut aside and focus on his partner. “Connor. Connor, wake up.”

He put his hands on either side of Connor’s face, tilting him a bit to the side to try and get a reaction. He only saw the rapid, pulsing red of his LED. Not good. With Connor still unresponsive, Hank grabbed up the black hose, dipping his hand under the running water. It was cold straight from the faucet.

He kinked the hose to slow the flow to more of a dribble than gush. He aimed it at Connor’s shoulders and neck that weren’t getting the benefit of being submerged. He soaked his arms and legs and briefly ran it over his head, just enough to get his hair damp. He didn’t want to send the kid into shock…if androids were susceptible to that kind of thing.

Dropping the hose back in the pool, he tapped his palm against the side of Connor’s face again. This time, he was rewarded with movement. Connor’s frame seemed to tense, and his eyes completely closed as he rebooted. There was a hitch in his normal breathing pattern, as his overheated system struggled to kick up his ventilation program to help cool his internal biocomponents. Yellow filtered into the red of his LED and soon replaced it entirely.

“There we go,” Hank exhaled heavily in relief. “Come on back.”

He kept one hand on Connor’s chest as an anchor, while he used his other hand to get under the back of his head and support his neck. Android or not, having his head hanging over the lip of the hard plastic pool wall at such a ragdoll angle looked painful. Connor was starting to twitch and shift a bit as everything came back online, and Hank let him do it as his own pace.

After an eternity, he finally opened his eyes, though they were having trouble focusing, and managed to look around.

“Hank?” His voice had an edge of static to it, but otherwise he sounded coherent.

“There he is,” Hank greeted, taking his hand from Connor’s chest and wiping the sweat from his own forehead. “Welcome back.”

Connor frowned slightly. “Back? Where did I…go?”

The melting bag of ice was sliding down and obstructing his vison, and he lifted a hand to remove it. Hank took it for him and set it instead on his chest, directly over his thirium pump. Connor looked down, assessing his situation. With only a brief pause, he lifted his eyes to Hank.

“Why am I—“

“Got too hot!” the little girl chirped, splashing her hands into the pool water. “Greta said you were gonna melt. You don’t look melted.”

Connor startled a bit at the child bouncing into his peripheral vision, and Hank snorted. The motion cracked through some of the tension that had locked up his joints, and he shifted on his knees. The panicked stomping of flip flops alerted Hank to the teenager running up behind him again.

“Is he dead? Tell me he isn’t dead!” She appeared on Hank’s right, holding another popcorn bowl full of ice from the freezer. She went stiff when she saw Connor looking back at her, and then she heaved a sigh. “Oh, thank fuck!”

“There is…” Connor was starting to pant now that his ventilation system was catching up, “…a child present.”

Hank looked over at the teenager. “How long was he out?”

“I was only in emergency stasis for twenty minutes,” Connor answered. “I’m undamaged…”

“That why you passed out in the yard? Because you’re not damaged?” Hank reproached.

“I momentarily…overheated…My internal temperature is already declining…back to normal parameters,” Connor stubbornly wheezed at him.

“Uh huh,” Hank grunted sarcastically. “Run a diagnostic for me anyway.”

Connor didn’t put up much fight, resting his head back against the pool wall and initiating the diagnostic with closed eyes. Hank shook his head and faced the teen again.

“Twenty minutes?”

She nodded shakily and pointed toward the fence. “I…I babysit Sofie next door. We were outside, and I just…heard this weird noise. When I looked through the fence…he was down.”

The little girl, Sofie, was squatted down next to the pool, staring intently at Connor as he ran his diagnostic. She seemed to be eying his flickering yellow LED. She started to reach out a hand as though to poke the spinning light.

“Sofie, no.” The teen skirted the pool and tugged the girl back. “He’s sick. Leave him be.”

Sofie made an unhappy noise, pouting up at her caretaker. “But…Greta…”

The babysitter, Greta, ran her hands over her face and smoothed her sweaty purple hair back. Poor kid looked freaked out by the whole situation.

“Greta,” Hank addressed her, trying to get her attention.

The girl jumped, rubbing at her arms and looking at him with wide eyes.

“You did good,” he assured. Connor’s LED shifted back to blue finally, and Hank pointed to it. “See?”

Greta followed his gesture and visibly deflated, though she continued to tremble as the adrenaline started to wear off.

Connor opened his eyes again. His expression was shifting from confusion to annoyance, and that was a relief to Hank. He’d take cranky over delirious any day.

“It’s as I said,” Connor said. “No permanent damage, only a temporary fluctuation in my core temperature, which is already being corrected.”

“Yeah, because you’re in the shade and half dunked in ice water,” Hank said dryly. “Dumbass.”

Connor’s face pinched, and he started to move his limbs, getting his hands under him to sit up.

“There is still a child present, Hank.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right.” Hank helped him sit upright.

He felt like he was swaying a little, and Hank held onto him until whatever the equivalent of android vertigo was had passed.

“You can go turn this off,” Hank told Greta, picking up the hose near the end of it. “I think he’s out of the woods.”

“Yeah, okay, yeah, I can…I can do that.” Greta nearly tripped on her feet. “Sofie, stay here.”

Sofie was ignoring her, watching the pale patches of skin on Connor’s face slowly filling back in as he recovered. She sat back on her rear in the grass, splashing her hands in the pool water again. She looked a little put out, and Hank chuckled at her sour face.

“You’ll get your pool back in a minute, kiddo,” he assured. “He just got too hot and had to borrow it.”

“I’m hot too,” Sofie said sullenly.

Hank snorted and picked up the hose again. He stuck his index finger against the open nozzle, just enough to force the stream to come out as more of a jet.

“Oh yeah? Does THIS help?” He briefly aimed the hose at her, sprinkling her with a short burst of cold water.

Sofie shrieked, jumping to her feet and dancing away. “No, that’s cold!”

“Thought you said you were hot?” he said, making the cold stream go farther to reach her.

The water pressure declined as soon as Greta shut off the faucet next door, and Hank abandoned the hose promptly as Connor started to get restless.

“What’s your core temperature now?” Hank asked, watching him fidget.

“A hundred and two point two and decreasing,” Connor replied, getting a little snippy now.

For a few seconds, Hank watched him struggle to get to his feet. The overheating and subsequent reboot appeared to have thrown off some of his motor functions, leaving him a little uncoordinated. He looked perplexed as to the best way to extricate himself from the kiddie pool with any measure of dignity.

“All right,” Hank sighed. “Don’t strain yourself. Here.”

He took Connor’s nearer arm around his neck, gripping around his back to take most of his weight.

“Just get your feet under you and lean on me. On three. One, two…”

On the unspoken three, Hank pushed himself from a knee to his feet, pulling Connor up with him. Connor’s knees wobbled, but he managed to get his balance and step away from the pool. With a belligerent mumble under his breath, he started to lean away from Hank, trying to stand on his own.

“I’m fine, Hank.” He stared at the ground, very visibly not fine.

Hank sighed and decided not to argue with him. “Whatever you say, bucko. Just go slow.”

All the same, he kept a hand hovering at Connor’s back as they slowly made their way across the yard toward the back door. Greta skidded back into view. She had apparently abandoned her flip flops for bare feet, giving her better traction to dart around.

“Oh shit,” she gaped when she saw Connor on his feet already. “You guys really bounce back fast.”

Connor made an exasperated noise and pointed back at Sofie. “Child. Present. Language.”

Hank let Connor go ahead now that he had a wall to lean on, and he looked appreciatively to Greta.

“Thank you,” he said. “Why don’t you two come inside and cool off too? Think I’ve got a few popsicles rattling around in the freezer…unless they’ve melted.”

“Sickles!” Sofie sprinted over toward the two. “I want a green one!”

“Sofie,” Greta scolded lightly, but she wiped the sweat from her face and managed a timid smile. “Thanks, sir.”

It took all of two minutes for the little girl to inhale half of one green popsicle and wear the other half on her front. Hank had let Sumo out of the bathroom prison at long last, and the dog had barreled around the house three times before locating Connor changing into dry clothes in Hank’s room.

Hank stood in the kitchen, refilling his empty ice trays, while Greta sat at the table and nursed a blue popsicle of her own. Connor apparently shooed Sumo out of the bedroom, because the huge dog came plodding back into the living room.

Now that the severity of the situation had passed, an awkward post-emergency air was settling over the house. Aside from Connor, Hank hadn’t had another soul in the house since…whatever. He wasn’t exactly sure what how to…host people. Sofie, at least, had turned Sumo into her own piece of furniture, sitting on the floor and reclining against the dog as she happily munched on a second popsicle.

“How, uh, how long have you been—“ Hank gestured toward the neighbor’s house. “Babysitting for the Masons?”

“Paulsons,” Greta corrected quietly. “Um, just this summer is my first go at it. I offered last year, but they wanted somebody older…well, I’m older and I guess they thought I could handle it.”

“Well…if today is any indication, they were right,” Hank offered, grabbing up a green popsicle for himself and finally closing the freezer door.

Greta scoffed. “I think they were worried about me taking care of a little kid, not an android.”

“And yet here they are, both still alive despite that epic panic,” Hank chuckled.

Greta lowered her head, looking embarrassed. “I freaked out really bad, huh.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay.”

“Is…Did I do what I was supposed to do?” Greta fidgeted, furtively glancing between Hank and the floor. “I didn’t know how to…if androids were…All I could think was ‘he’s too hot, cool him down,’ but I know you aren’t supposed to use really cold water with humans, but he was making this WEIRD NOISE and I just—“

“All right, all right, easy.” Hank lifted a hand to calm the poor girl.

Connor finally emerged from the bedroom, steadier on his feet and starting to look mortified at the whole thing. He was in a new, dry grey t-shirt and black athletic shorts and looking much more comfortable for it.

“Couch.” Hank pointed as he instructed his partner. “Thirium.” He pointed at the chilled bottle of Thirium on the coffee table. “Temperature?”

Connor sluggishly made his way to the couch and obediently sank into it. “One hundred one point three and falling still.”

The fact that he made no argument as he drank the cold thirium and then laid down across the couch told Hank all he needed to know about how the kid really felt. Sumo keened from the floor, but Sofie had pinned him in place, gnawing on her popsicle stick and rubbing the dog’s head.

Greta fidgeted, her knee bouncing a few times before she awkwardly got to her feet. “Well, we—uh—I should probably take Sofie back…next door. Her dad gets home in like…soon…and I kinda just left things strewn about when I, uh…”

“Broke into my house and threw a pool party in my backyard?” Hank lifted an eyebrow.

Greta took a breath to correct him, paused, and lifted her shoulders with a crooked grin. “Something like that.”

From the couch came an exhausted “Not my definition of a party.”

Hank snorted and walked with Greta to the door. Sofie sprang to her feet as well, darting around the front of the couch instead to reach the door.

“I’m glad you didn’t melt!” she hollered as he passed by Connor.

Hank looked over the back of the couch. Connor had cringed from the proximity of the child’s yelling to his ear, but despite his sour mood, he gave the girl a small smile.

“Thanks, Sofie,” the android mumbled. “And Greta.”

Greta missed the doorknob when she went to grab it, cleared her throat, and successfully got a hold of it the next time. “Sure, yeah, no problem, uh…Feel better.”

Hank held the door open as Greta took Sofie’s hand to lead her back next door. “I’ll bring that pool back around in an hour. I want to keep an eye on him for a bit.”

“That’s fine. I think we’re kinda pool-ed out today.”

“I’m not!” Sofie snapped.

Greta shushed her and smiled at Hank. “Bye, Mr. Anderson.”

“Hank,” he corrected. “Bye, Greta, Sofie.”

Once they were gone, Hank closed the door and backed up a few steps, peering down over the back of the couch again. Connor still looked rough, but he had enough energy to glare back up at Hank in the kind of bad mood brought on by embarrassment. No way was Hank letting him live this one down anytime soon.

“So…did you have a nice swim?”

Connor scowled and tiredly rolled from his back onto his side, waving away Sumo who was desperate to join him on the couch.

“Ah, Sumo, no.” Hank walked around the couch and grabbed his collar, tugging him away. “Big freakin’ space heater. You’re the last thing he needs right now.”

Sumo gave a pitiful whine but relented, flopping onto the rug in front of the television. Hank retrieved the one frozen ice pack that had survived Greta and wrapped it in a thin kitchen towel. He carried it over to his grumpy friend and leaned down, sliding it between the couch and Connor’s back with only minimal warning.

“Here, this’ll help—“

“Shit!” Connor jerked away from the sudden cold. That reaction quickly faded as he leaned back against the soothing cold pack, reaching around and moving it from his back to his chest to be more effective.

Hank laughed. “You’re lucky that poor little girl isn’t still here, or you’d be exposing her to some bad language, Connor.”

The exhaustion was really hitting the android now, so Connor didn’t snipe back with anything clever. All he managed was a low, uncomfortable groan.

“Leave me alone, Hank,” he pleaded pathetically.

Hank decided to take pity on him. “Yeah, all right, son. Temperature?”

“One hundred even.”

“Good.” Hank nodded, returning to the fridge for a cold beer. “Do me a favor. Take a nap…er…do your rest mode thing for a few hours. You’ll wake up feeling better and maybe less cranky. Then you can tell me what the Hell you were trying to do out there.”

“Hmph.”

By the time Hank got to the recliner, Connor was out. Hank sat back in his seat, turning on the television and putting the game on mute. He eyed the kid long enough to watch his blue LED cycle three times, slow and steady, before he started to properly watch the game.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the thing...I was really going to let this be a oneshot fic, but ChelConnorVictorCase613 suggested adding a chapter from Greta's POV. The oneshot was actually going to be Greta's POV originally, but the image of Hank just coming home and finding Connor the way he did was too funny to me. BUT...consider my arm twisted, because that comment was all the excuse I needed to write this second chapter. And seeing as it is still very hot here, I felt compelled to write about heat and why summer is not my fave. 
> 
> I did write this kinda fast and in one sitting, again, just to get it out of my brain. And I bumped up the rating, because of Greta's teenage potty mouth.
> 
> Also, a lot of people were curious about what Connor was actually doing in the back yard. I couldn't get to it in this second chapter, so consider my arm twisted again, because there's going to be a third chapter where we finally answer that question XD
> 
> Enjoy!

Aside from being hotter than Hell, the day had been pretty uneventful, and in Greta’s short experience, ‘uneventful’ and ‘babysitting a five year old’ were super rare. As little kids went, Sofie was pretty chill most of the time. The heat was making her cranky though, and that was making Greta cranky. She had spent most of the day trying to keep both herself and Sofie out of the blazing sun and the pressing heat. Sofie, unfortunately, was an outdoor girl, and every thirty minutes throughout the day, the five year old had been begging and pulling at Greta’s leg to go out into the back yard and play.

The app on her phone kept cheerfully reminding her that the heat indices were pushing into the triple digits, and the few times throughout the day that she had gone outside with Sofie, she had spent the majority of the time trying to keep them both from melting. Sofie had scampered around like a feral little gremlin for a while before she started getting really red in the face and out of breath, and Greta would shuffle her back into the blessed air conditioning.

At the moment, Sofie had won a third round of this debate, though mercifully this time she had decided that she wanted to play in her pool. Greta swore she ended up wearing more of the sunscreen than the little girl as she tried to lather her up.

The water in the blue kiddie pool had warmed up under the sun’s abuse, and Greta huffed and puffed as she struggled to turn the thing over to empty it out so she could refill it with cold water from the hose. She seriously considered turning the hose on herself and just soaking her clothes to get some relief from the heat. She settled for just hitting her arms and the bare parts of her legs.

Holy Moses, it was cold and wonderful.

Why the actual fuck the Paulson’s neighbor was choosing today to do…whatever the actual fuck he was doing over there besides making a racket…was beyond her. Sofie’s parents had warned Greta that their neighbor was a grumpy old cop who was drunk more often than he was sober, and that it was best if she and Sofie avoided contact with him.

But…the dude on the other side of the fence wasn’t grumpy or old or drunk as far as she could tell. He was just…out of his actual mind if he was doing yard work now, when it was hot as balls. Through the gaps in the slatted wood fencing separating the properties, she had caught glimpses throughout the day of the guy moving dirt around and laying out a bunch of shit that she was too hot and irritated to guess at. He’d caught Sofie staring at him once, and he’d waved and smiled politely enough.

Greta turned the pool back over and went to retrieve the hose to start refilling it, glancing over at the fence again. Jesus, was he still at it? She could see him moving around with a shovel, though he was moving slower than he had been this morning.

Go inside, stupid, she grumbled to herself, wiping sweat from her forehead.

Oh holy god, was he wearing jeans?!

“Um…” she hummed in confusion, before shrugging it off.

…Frickin…grown ass man…fucking around in the yard in jeans when it’s hotter than the devil’s ass out here…God, guys were stupid…

She dropped the hose in the pool and turned on the water, and it was only a few inches deep when Sofie trudged over to the shade, looking about as miserable as Greta felt.

“Wanna go inside.”

Greta balked. “You said you wanted to swim…”

“Yeah, but it’s hot,” Sofie whined. “I wanna watch a movie.”

Greta started to get exasperated because it had taken way too long to get Sofie into her swimsuit and covered in sunscreen and now refilling the pool…and she had just changed her mind.

But hey…if it got them inside and out of the actual oven that was this back yard…

A low pitched, grinding, whirring sound cut over the fence, and Greta’s spine yanked her up straight, looking over at the fence in bewilderment.

“Um…?” She took a step closer, peering through the slats.

The neighbor guy was standing in the middle of the yard, just staring at the house, not doing anything. The shovel had been dropped by his feet, and he was swaying back and forth a little. She could tell he was breathing hard, and…wait…was HE making that weird noise?

“Um…” She thought about calling out to see if he was okay.

He was just…standing there like a weirdo…

Before she could do anything, however, the noise intensified and…shit, yeah, okay, that sound was definitely coming from him and what the fuck, what the fuckwhatthefuck—

Then he was slumping backwards, not even trying to catch himself as he collapsed to the ground. The sound cut out, and he made no motion to get up.

“UM?!?!?!” Greta ran to the fence, smacking at the wood with her hand. “Hello? Hey! Hey, uh…dude, are you okay? DUDE!”

“What’s he doing?” Sofie asked, sauntering over and rubbing at the glop of sunscreen on her nose.

Greta’s brain locked up, and she just stared at the body for a moment. Oh shit, he’d just…he was out. He wasn’t moving at all…There was nobody else home as far as she had seen all day, and even if somebody walked by, he was in the back yard. Nobody was going to see him…

“H-Hold on!” she called out, smacking at the fence again, like that would miraculously make him wake up. “I’m…I don’t—Okay…uh…Sofie, go in the house and just…sit on the couch, okay?”

Sofie’s eyes were wide, and shit…she was scaring her. Greta tried to calm her energy, but her brain was telling her that she’d just watched that guy have a stroke over there. So she would love to be calm, AND YET SHE WASN’T.

“It’s okay,” she opted to just shoot her voice up in pitch, hoping that would be convincing enough. “I’m just going to go check on the neighbor, okay? It’s all right. Just go inside and sit on the couch until I get back, okay?”

Sofie looked pacified enough by that, but she leaned around Greta to look. “Is he sleeping?”

“N—Sure.” Greta waved a hand to the back door. “Just go in there, okay? Everything’s okay, I promise.”

Sofie sulked as she was ushered through the back door and into the house. Then Greta was off like a shot, bolting into the front yard and darting around the fence. She sprinted into the back yard and found the man exactly where he’d fallen down: right in the middle of the yard in the middle of the sun.

“Uh…dude? S-sir?” She hit her knees beside him, reaching out and giving him a shake.

It was like touching the hood of a hot car. He felt bone dry; he wasn’t even sweating. What the—

The flickering red light spinning on his temple made her pause, and her eyes widened.

Android.

Her gut reaction was to back up and get away, and she managed to flop back from her knees onto her backside and hands. When he didn’t reanimate and lunge at her, she quickly shook her head and moved closer again.

“Come on, Greta. Pull it together,” she scolded herself.

Okay…okay, so the neighbor had an android, and it…he was overheating.

“Dude?” She reached out a shaky hand, tapping at his cheek.

The synthetic skin program was faltering, and her palm made contact with naked plastic…very hot naked plastic.

Oh shit…Could androids melt? What was the boiling point of thirium?

The image of malformed, half melted traffic cones from the internet jumped to the front of her mind, and her stomach churned.

“Nope, no…” She shook her head, scrambling back to her knees and moving around to the android’s head. “Let’s just get you inside, okay, buddy? Where it’s nice and…cool…”

She jammed her hands under his shoulders, hiking his upper body off the ground. Christ, he was really warm. She got her arms around his chest and tried to drag him back toward the house. His dead weight fought against her, and she huffed, angling herself toward the back door of the house and heaving at him again.

The body dragged backwards about a foot, and she nearly dropped him in surprise. Her flip flop straps were digging between her toes as she took a few steps backward toward the house. He moved a little more, but then the loose dirt made her lose traction, and she slipped. With a yelp, she landed on her backside on the dirt, and he flopped, heavy and way too warm, across her legs.

“Come ON. Fuck,” she grumbled, swatting at his face again. “Wake up, man. Come on. I can’t drag you. You’re too fuckin’ heavy.”

He rose to no such request, and she groaned loudly, popping onto her knees and looking around for another idea. The trees were casting a good amount of shade in the other direction, and it was closer than the house. Maybe if she could just get him in the shade…

“New plan,” she said aloud, grabbing at his arms again. She heaved him up and got a grip around his torso once more, twisting around so that she could drag him toward the shade instead of the house. “Here we go. God, this would be so much easier if you’d just…”

She gave up speaking to save her breath, grunting and puffing as she yanked and pulled the limp android toward the shade. Once they were under the shield of branches and leaves, Greta could feel the sharpness of the heat drop away slightly. It wasn’t enough for the big guy to come around, but at least they weren’t cooking anymore.

“Okay…um…I need to…cool you down.” She ran both hands through her hair, and her hands came away sweaty from her scalp. She wiped them off on her pants and got an idea. “Wait here.”

She ran across the yard, around the fence, and back to the Paulson’s. Sofie was in the window, holding the curtains open and watching her in confusion. Greta cobbled together a smile for the little girl, but it felt tight and fake as she ran over to the plastic kiddie pool. The hose was still running, and she yanked it from the pool, taking it over to the fence and throwing it nozzle-first over into the other yard.

The tension in the running black hose had the thing recoiling back over the fence and smacking her in the head for her trouble.

“Shit,” she yelped, grabbing the hose again and backing up a step. “Work with me here!”

She threw it again, and this time enough of the hose got over the fence for the weight to prevent it from snapping back over. She waited just a beat to make sure it would stay, and then she was grabbing up the plastic pool again. She tipped it over to dump out the water and then turned it over her back like a turtle shell, hauling it to the neighbor’s yard.

She flung the thing right side up next to the unconscious android, and she paused long enough to make sure his LED was still on. Red was bad, but dark was worse. Dark was dead.

“Don’t die.” She pointed at him. “And don’t…melt or just…Hang on, okay? I’m…I’m working on it!”

She ran over to the fence and grabbed the hose nozzle, running it over to the body and immediately turning the cold water over his head and chest.

Fuck, she almost swore she saw steam rise on contact with the heated plastic of his body.

“Okay…uh…Let’s try…” She dropped the hose and, third time’s the charm, lifted his upper body from the ground.

This time, she only had to lift him up and drop him in the blue pool. The water and her own sweat made him slippery, and she muttered apologies as she basically manhandled the poor guy into the pool. He hit the plastic floor of it with a loud thunk, and she grimaced, kneeling down and dragging him back a bit until she could prop his head against the wall of the pool.

“Sorry,” she cringed, grabbing up the hose and drawing the water up and down his body a few times. “Hey, if you want, you can wake up and start yelling at me. Would reeeeally prefer that right now.”

Again, he rose to no such request, and she set the hose down inside the pool, letting it start to fill. She put her hands briefly on his head, his neck, and his belly. Heat was still pouring off of him. The water wasn’t working fast enough…

Shit, she had left Sofie alone too long…

Greta flung herself back up to her feet, arms pinwheeling a bit to keep her balance. She took a step back toward the Paulson’s…but she couldn’t leave this overheating android here like this…She turned and took a step back toward him…but what else could she do for him right now? Maybe she could call for help…She turned back toward the Paulsons…but there wasn’t a 911 for android emergencies!

She turned in a helpless, indecisive circle and made a frustrated noise.

“Okay…I’ll be right back!” She ran back over to the Paulsons, sweat plastering her clothes to her body as she went through the front door.

“Why’s he get my pool?!” Sofie sounded indignant, still perched by the window.

“He got really hot, and he had to cool down,” Greta answered shortly. She held out a hand. “Come with me. We’re going over to the neighbor’s house.”

“I don’t want to!” Sofie pouted. “I want to watch a movie.”

“I wasn’t asking. We’re going over there. He needs our help.” Greta flexed her outstretched hand for emphasis. “I need your help to take care of him.”

Sofie stepped away from the window, her eyes big. “What can I do?”

“I’ll show you. Now, come on. Take my hand.”

Sofie didn’t look enthused, but Greta hadn’t been able to keep up a carefree mask and Sofie had clearly picked up on the urgency of the situation. The little girl took her hand, and Greta walked her quickly out of the house. She closed the door behind her and walked her over to the back yard of the neighbor’s house.

“He’s an android!” Sofie chirped, spotting the red LED much faster than Greta had.

She pulled away from Greta’s hand, skipping over to the lanky body inhabiting her pool. Greta wrung her own wrists, jogging back over to him.

“Y-yeah, hey, don’t touch him,” she chastised, stopping Sofie from climbing into the pool with the android. “He got really hot, and it made him sick. We gotta be gentle, okay?”

Sofie nodded seriously, squatting down inside in the shade by the pool. “Do androids melt?”

“I don’t…know?” Oh, she shouldn’t have answered that question with a question.

Sofie looked equal parts curious and terrified at the idea, and Greta tried to do damage control.

“No, no, he isn’t gonna melt, but I have…we have to cool him down, okay? Can you sit here and watch him for me?”

“Yeah.” Sofie nodded seriously again.

“I mean it. Do NOT move from this spot.” Greta pointed at the grass.

Sofie sat heavily on the ground, planting her hands on the sides of the pool. “I can watch him!”

“Good…Good, good girl,” Greta rambled, backing up. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

She turned around and ran toward the back door of the neighbor’s house. It was locked, and she cursed, looking back at Sofie and the android. The little girl hadn’t budged, looking fascinated by the faltering skin program on the android’s face. Greta turned back around and ran to the front of the house, trying the front door.

Mercifully, it opened, but not as mercifully, a massive wall of fur barreled at her as soon as she stepped inside.

“Fuck!” Greta’s flip flops slipped up again, and she landed hard on the floor just inside the door.

The dog was huge and slobbery and excited, pawing and licking at her in greeting. He barked a few times, and the sound was so loud it made her brain rattle between her ears. She rolled from her front to her back, swatting the dog away so she could get to her feet.

“God, you’re big.” She ran into the house, glancing around for an idea of the layout.

She spotted the door that led to the back yard, and she crossed over to it, unlocking it. The dog was right behind her, and she paused, not yanking the door open. She looked out the window. Sofie was splashing her hands in the pool, looking like she was talking animatedly to the unconscious android.

Greta swallowed and faced the dog again.

“I’ve got my hands full with those two. I can’t handle you too, boy.” She grappled at his neck until she found a collar. “Come on…” She pulled.

The huge dog started to put on the brakes, but it didn’t take much for him to start plodding after her. She located the first open door in the hallway, a bathroom, and ushered the dog into it. Before he could turn around to face her, she closed the door quickly, containing him inside. The dog immediately went nuts, barking and yowling and pawing at the door.

“Sorry, bud.” She bounced back toward the main room and into the kitchen.

She flung open the top freezer on the refrigerator and saw that the ice maker was full.

“Thank fuck,” she wheezed.

She pulled open half of the cabinets in the kitchen before finding a large blue bowl. She shoveled ice into it and then carried it through the back door. The heat slammed into her hard and fast as soon as she was outside again, and she momentarily forgot to breathe.

Clearing her throat, she took the bowl of ice over to the pool and hastily dumped the cubes in. Sofie giggled and pulled her hands back. Greta picked up the bowl and ran back into the house, refilling it and taking it outside. She dumped the second round of ice into the pool, and Sofie picked up a cube, turning it over in her hands where it quickly started to melt.

“Sofie…Sofie, I’ve got a game,” Greta yammered.

“What is it?!” Sofie demanded, still holding the ice cube.

“I’m gonna keep bringing out ice, okay? And you…you gotta put the ice down his shirt.” She reached out, tugging at the neckline of the android’s white t-shirt.

“What do I win?!”

“We will watch any movie you want,” Greta promised. “Just put the ice here.” She pointed to the android’s neckline. “When he wakes up, you win!”

“Okay!” Sofie sat up with renewed fervor, grabbing at a few ice cubes with her small hands.

Greta ran back into the house, refilling the bowl and carrying it outside with more ice.

Sofie was picking up individual cubes of it and pushing them down the neck of the android’s shirt.

It went against everything that Greta knew about cooling down an overheated human. You were absolutely NOT supposed to dunk them in cold water like this. They could go into shock or…have a heart attack or…something something bad bad. But…was it different for androids?

Well…it was tough shit now; she’d already gotten him into it.

She checked his LED again. The red was bright and cycling faster now than before. Was that better or worse? All of an android’s important stuff was in the head and chest like a human. The water in the pool was starting to submerge most of his torso, but what about his head? Was his brain boiling in there?

She tapped his forehead. “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Motherfucker,” she hissed, jumping to her feet again.

She ran into the house and found a box of plastic sandwich bags. She shoveled a few handfuls of ice into one of the bags and ran with it outside. Kneeling down, she got her hands on the sides of his skull and tried to situate him so that his head was straight enough to keep the ice bag from sliding off. The movement caused his eyelids to crack open, and she yelped, letting go of him.

“Hello?” She waved a hand in front of his face.

His eyes stayed half open, but there was no light in them as he stared through her.

God it was creepy as fuck. She distracted herself from the sight by planting the ice bag square across his forehead, making sure it would stay.

He was breathing funny…because, oh yeah shit, androids breathed to help cool down, right?

Did she just make that up? Was that a thing?

“Godddd,” she moaned, smacking at the side of her jaw to try and knock herself out of this weird spiral. “Okay, Greta, we’re good. We’re doing everything right. He’s okay…” She looked down at him. “You’re okay, right?”

“Running outta ice,” Sofie said, fishing for more cubes in the water.

“That’s enough,” Greta stated. “You won; you can stop.”

“He’s not awake yet!”

“I know, but…here…” Greta substituted the ice for the black hose. “Hold this right here, and make sure it keeps filling the pool, okay?”

Sofie pouted but took the hose. “When’s he gonna wake up?”

“…Soon.” Maybe if she said it loud enough, it’d happen. “I’m going to get more ice. Will you watch him for me?”

“He’s not doing anything.”

“Then watching him should be easy, okay?”

Sofie rolled her eyes. “Fiiiiine, but after this I wanna watch Die Hard.”

How the Hell did this little girl even know what…

“You said any movie I wanted to watch!” Sofie pointed at her.

“I…did, didn’t I?...Okay, whatever, fine, just…hold that, stay there…I’ll be right back.” Greta held her out hands in a calming gesture, then spun around and grabbed the blue bowl, running for the house again.

She sprinted through the back door, ready to get another bowl full of ice and with no idea what to do after that.

The cherry on top of this day was nearly running into the strange man standing in the hallway, aiming a gun at her.

She screamed and dropped the bowl, throwing up her hands in surrender.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “What are you doing in my house?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the rest is history. Greta is just perpetually on the struggle bus XD Poor kid.
> 
> Stay tuned for the third and final chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the conclusion XD

Basketball was still playing on the television when Hank came out of his doze in the recliner. The house was dark save for the light from the TV, and it cast a cool glow around the disheveled living room. He tried to squint at the clock on the wall, but it was too far away to read. He swatted at his wrist for the watch that hadn’t been there in years, and he finally grabbed at his phone on the chair’s arm rest to check the time.

The light from the small screen nearly blinded him, and he grumbled in irritation as he waited for his eyes to adjust. According to the clock on his phone, he’d been out for about three hours. That had been enough time for the sun to go down, throwing off his sense of time and space.

God, surprise naps were disorienting.

The sounds of a basketball dribbling, shoes squeaking on wood court floor, and referee whistles filled the room with a familiar white noise, and for a blissful half a second, he didn’t remember the events of the day.

Then he very abruptly did, and he sat up straight in the chair, eyes darting to the couch.

It was vacant, but there was still a Connor-shaped dent in the cushions and pillow, so Hank guessed he hadn’t been up and about long.

“Con—“ His voice came out thick and scratchy, and he cleared his throat. “Connor, you around here?”

He got no answer, and he cursed, yanking on the lever on the side of the recliner to retract the leg rest. He popped up to his feet, and that woke up Sumo, who had been curled up on his bed against the wall. Some of Hank’s anxiety unconsciously eased; the big lug would have been glued to Connor’s side if something was wrong with him…wherever he was.

Hank stretched and made his way around the house. No Connor in the kitchen, bathroom, or Hank’s bedroom, and his car was still parked in the garage. He was just starting to feel anxious again when his eyes drifted to the back door that led to the yard.

Well, where else would a detective android go than back to the scene of the crime?

He snorted and crossed over to the door, turning the knob and tugging it open.

He nearly walked straight into Connor, sitting on the steps directly outside the door.

“Hey, there you are,” Hank greeted, stepping around his friend and closing the door behind him.

Connor started slightly in surprise, forearms folded across his knees as he’d been staring out at the yard. He looked up at Hank, and Hank felt relief at the clearness of his eyes, even if he still looked worn out.

“Hello, Hank,” Connor returned, making no motion to move from his spot.

The sun had taken about twenty degrees with it when it set, but it left all of the thick humidity for the night air to soak in. Hank felt like he was wearing it, like moving around in soup, but at least it was cooler soup than the oven that the back yard had been earlier that day. The only lights casting any shadows across the yard were the street lights from the front of the house, the moon and stars overhead, the lights from the neighbor’s windows filtering through the fence slats, and the thoughtful yellow of Connor’s LED.

“Feeling better?” Hank prompted, moving out to stand beside the steps to avoid crowding the guy.

“Yes.” Despite the affirmative answer, Connor’s tone wasn’t convincing. “All of my systems are operating optimally. I performed a diagnostic when I came out of rest mode; it confirmed that there are no lingering effects from my…overheating event.”

“Event is the right word,” Hank chuckled, hands on his hips as he surveyed the yard.

As soon as he had determined that Connor was stable, Hank had drained Sofie’s kiddie pool and dragged it back over to the Paulson’s yard. Greta had still been on duty, and she had thanked him and offered a salute/wink combo that might have been her attempt to lighten the mood. She was a weird kid.

At any rate, the yard looked back to normal now…all evidence of the strange day had been cleared away…all except for the mess of churned up dirt, a roll of metal wire fencing, and half a dozen steel posts piled against the back of the house. Connor must have already moved the other tools that had been left strewn about back into the small shed behind the house. Hank didn’t like that he’d woken up from rest mode and immediately exerted himself in the yard again, but he didn’t appear to be relapsing, so Hank didn’t say anything about it.

“I’m sorry for alarming you,” Connor muttered quietly.

Hank scoffed and cuffed a hand lightly against the android’s shoulder. “You didn’t ‘alarm’ me, son. You fucking scared me.”

Connor tensed, arms wrapping a little more tightly around his knees, and he met Hank’s eyes. “It wasn’t my intention—“

“I know that,” Hank said with a shrug. “So…I gotta ask…what the fuck WAS your intention with all this?” He gestured to the mess of dirt in the yard.

Connor’s expression shut off, and he looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”

Oh, with a reaction like THAT, Hank thought it sure as Hell mattered.

He bent sideways until he was even with Connor’s line of sight, forcing the android to look at him.

“Whaaaat?” Hank coaxed.

Connor visibly prickled, and his shoulders crept up toward his ears self consciously.

“I…don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

Connor straightened up somewhat belligerently. “I’m sorry for making a mess in the yard. Tomorrow I will go purchase some seed to aid in regrowing the grass over the area I ruined.”

“Ruined—Connor, it’s dirt. It’ll grow back on its own. I’m not worried about it.” Hank gave a flippant wave toward the grass. “I’m worried about what all this is.” He wiggled his fingers around Connor’s murky aura.

Seeming to sense a losing battle, Connor sighed and lowered his shoulders. “The plan for today was…a garden. I was goingtostartavegetablegarden.”

He rushed through the last bit, averting his eyes again.

Hank had never seen Connor this flustered and embarrassed about something so…ridiculous. He rubbed a hand over his mouth to cover up the amused smile that he knew his friend wouldn’t appreciate.

“Aw Hell, that’s what this is about?” he asked casually. “Lots of people garden, Connor. Why are you being weird about it?”

He’d been around Connor long enough to tell when he was overthinking, but this time, the android seemed to conclude that letting the overthinking spill out of his mouth in tandem was a good idea. At least, that’s what Hank figured the thought process was behind the word salad that came tumbling out afterward.

“Because I failed. I set a mission for myself, and I failed it. I was supposed to have the fencing already established around the perimeter, the dirt tilled properly, and the seeds planted before you got home. It was supposed to be a surprise, and it was supposed to be simple. I am the most advanced android that Cyberlife ever created, and I failed at…at tomatoes!” he vented, immediately curling back around himself again when he was done.

Hank just stared at him for a long moment. Then he awkwardly rocked from one foot to the other, running a hand through his hair in thought.

“Well, y’know…gardening can be…tricky.”

“Don’t patronize me, Hank.”

Hank barked out a short laugh, sitting on the step beside him and looping an arm around his shoulders. “Hey, all right, enough sulking. It’s okay to fail sometimes.”

“No, it isn’t,” Connor argued sharply. “I wasn’t designed to fail at anything. That was the whole point of my creation.”

“And where would we be if you hadn’t failed at your original mission? Look, you were also not designed to plant tomatoes,” Hank countered, squeezing his arm around his friend briefly. “We all have our skills. You could say even humans were ‘designed’ by our DNA to be better or worse at things than each other. It’s not a flaw, Connor. If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, the fish will spend its whole life thinking it’s stupid.”

Connor furtively glanced at him, then resumed glaring down at the grass. “That’s not the way the quote—“

Hank snorted and smacked his hand lightly against the top of Connor’s head. “Smart ass. Don’t correct me when I’m trying to make you feel better…Is it working?”

Connor tilted his head forward slightly in response, and his LED finally, mercifully, returned to blue. Hank took heart from that and retracted his arm from Connor’s shoulders, propping his elbows on his knees.

“So…coming home to a garden would have definitely been a surprise,” he asked tentatively. “But why a surprise for me? Hobbies are supposed to be for you, not someone else.”

“I don’t need to eat tomatoes.”

“I know, so—wait, you were building a garden specifically for me?” Hank straightened, leaning away a bit to look at his friend better.

“…Yes.” Connor was slipping back into sulking, hugging his knees and staring at the ground.

Hank sighed. That’s why he was so upset. It was easier to fail at something when you were only letting yourself down. Letting down someone else added a whole new layer of feeling shitty to it. Is that what Connor thought he did? Let Hank down?

“Well, I’m touched, Connor, but…There’s a grocery store literally three blocks from here. If you were gonna get any kind of joy or satisfaction from gardening, then don’t let me stop you, but if you were only doing this purely for my benefit, then—“

“I just thought,” Connor started, stopped, and hunched a little. “My research suggested that oftentimes it can be easier to integrate better eating habits into human children by involving them in the process of making the food. I decided to apply this notion to…It doesn’t matter.”

“You tried to use child psychology on me? You asshole,” Hank laughed.

Connor relaxed slightly at the genuine laughter. “You aren’t mad?”

“Mad is for when I order pizza, and you cancel it behind my back and force a salad at me,” Hank stated. “This…This was a nice gesture. It’s the thought that counts…” At Connor’s doubtful face, Hank nudged him. “Hey, I got an idea. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, why don’t we take a stab at it together?”

He was skilled at gardening like a brick was skilled at floating on water, but if it would wipe that downtrodden look off Connor’s face, then he’d do his best…

“No,” Connor shook his head. “I think…this fish would rather not try to climb that tree again.”

Hank snorted and relaxed. “Thank God. I really didn’t want to start a garden.”

Connor finally smiled at that, and Hank counted that as a win.

“Anderson?”

Both Hank and Connor started in surprise at the third voice that came across the yard. They both turned toward the fence, locating the source. A man stood on the other side of the fence, looking uncertain but determined. It looked like Sofie’s dad…Robert? Rick? Paulson was home. He was a square-shouldered man about Hank’s height, but shave off about twenty years from his face. He had short blond hair and dark eyes that were drawn in a guarded expression.

“Yeah.” Hank stood from the step, patting Connor’s shoulder to indicate he stay where he was.

Connor made no attempt to follow him, and Hank took a few steps over to the fence.

“I’m Barry Paulson,” the man introduced stiffly. “Sofie’s father.”

“Yeah, I put that together,” Hank stated. “Hank. That’s Connor.” He tilted his head in Connor’s direction.

Connor lifted a hand in greeting, staying quiet.

Barry nodded at the android and then looked back to Hank. “Greta told me what happened today. I just…thought I’d ask if…make sure he was doing all right.”

Hank put his hands on his hips, turning halfway to look back at Connor, who had tensed and self consciously turned his face away against his knees.

“Yeah, think he’s more embarrassed than anything about it.” Hank turned back to Barry. “Sorry Sofie got wrapped up in it, but her and Greta…really came to the rescue today.”

Barry’s expression softened a bit at Connor’s reaction, and it stayed that way when he looked at Hank again.

“I’m…glad to hear that…” Barry swung his hands at his sides in loose fists, looking unsure how to exit this conversation. “Well, that was all I wanted to…know. I’ll leave you to it then—“

“Hey,” Hank stopped him. “You, uh, you and your family moved in about two years ago, yeah?”

“…Yes,” Barry confirmed, looking a little wrongfooted.

Hank awkwardly bobbed his head, not exactly sure where he was going with this either. Shit, he didn’t know anything about being ‘neighborly’ anymore, but he did know this whole ‘ignore them until they stop trying to talk to you’ thing had to end. Who knew what kind of condition he would have found Connor in if he hadn’t had a neighbor—or a neighbor’s babysitter—who gave enough of a shit to help him?

Even if human attitudes toward androids had been improving since the liberation, Hank’s exposure on the daily at work showed him just how many ignorant shitheads were still out there, all too willing to let an android collapse and die in his own back yard without lifting a damn finger to help. And Barry had had no obligation to come over here and ask about Connor’s well-being. Hank felt he owed it to the guy to at least try.

Words weren’t his strong suit, so he opted for honesty.

“Look, I know I’ve been a jackass since you all moved in, but I was like that with everybody. It was nothing you or your family did,” he blurted. “It’s just been a rough patch. That’s not an excuse, just an explanation.”

That looked like more than Barry had ever expected to hear, and the other man stared at him.

“Uh…okay.”

“What I’m saying is…sorry.” Hank huffed. “You all didn’t deserve that and…and I’m grateful for what Greta and Sofie did today.”

Barry paused and then offered a small smile. “Thank you, Hank. I appreciate that.” He looked back at Connor and then to Hank again. “Sofie hasn’t talked about anything else since I got home. She doesn’t see many androids. I think it made her day.”

“I’m glad someone had fun at least,” Connor finally joined the conversation.

Hank had to give Connor credit for obeying Hank’s order to stay put as long as he did, but he had apparently had enough of sitting in the background. He had stood up and carefully stepped over to where Hank was standing. Yeah, in his t-shirt and shorts, hair fucked up on one side from sleeping on it, and his arms wrapped around himself, and those big doe eyes…He was the very image of a threatening machine, Hank chuckled to himself.

“She’s definitely the only one,” he said. “Thought Greta was gonna have a stroke right there in my living room.” He looked seriously to Barry. “She’s a good kid. She panicked, but she did what she had to do and took care of the situation. She was good with Sofie too—“

Barry smiled more easily and shook his head as the back door behind him popped open and, as though summoned, Sofie came barreling out.

“Daddy!” she squealed, scampering over to Barry.

She had an empty orange plastic water gun in one hand, and she skidded to a stop beside her father. She raised the gun at Hank and Connor through the fence. They both raised their hands in surrender, and she beamed, lowering her deadly weapon.

“Hey, Sof-Loaf,” Barry teased, picking her up and holding her against his hip. “They were just telling me how much you helped Greta and Connor today.”

Sofie fiddled with the water gun in her hands, not looking up. “…Yeah…”

Connor leaned in a little, lowering his arms to his sides. “Thank you, Sofie.”

Suddenly shy, Sofie continued to stare at her water gun toy, not acknowledging him. Hank smirked and looked to Barry again.

“Anyway, I just wanted you to know how Greta did, if my opinion means anything.”

Barry nodded, setting the squirming little girl back on her feet beside him. “That’s good to hear. We were planning on having a talk with her tomorrow when she comes over again. We…need to discuss a few things…”

“Yippee ki yay, motherfucker!” Sofie screamed. “Pew-pew!” She fired her water gun at Hank, then spun on her heel and darted back toward the house.

Hank blanched, pointing after her. “She—I did NOT teach her that.”

“No…No,” Barry sighed, running a hand over his face. “That’s…what we need to discuss with Greta.”

Hank paused, confused, and looked at Connor.

Connor looked sheepish. “I recall hearing Greta promise to watch any movie Sofie wanted if she behaved while they assisted me. Sofie requested Die Hard…I’m sorry, Mr. Paulson.”

Hank looked from Connor, to Barry, back to Connor, and then couldn’t contain a laugh at their equally scandalized expressions.

Barry at least saw some of the humor in a child swearing like that, and he snorted, half turning back toward his house. “Well, I need to go…handle that situation…It was nice to finally officially meet you, Hank. Connor, I’m glad you’re doing okay now.”

“Thank you,” Connor replied politely.

“We’ll, uh, try not to be strangers,” Hank stated. “I’m making no promises though.”

Barry held up his hands in acceptance. “Gotcha. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Barry went to corral his daughter. He raised his hands like T-rex arms and growled at her, chasing her toward the back door. The five year old cackled and sprinted into the house, and he went after her, closing the door after himself. Hank felt a familiar ache in his chest at the scene, and he exhaled heavily, turning and heading back to his own house.

Connor lagged a bit behind, giving him a fair amount of space as they returned to the living room. The post-game show was on, and it kept the house from getting too quiet as Hank busied himself with making a sandwich in the kitchen. Connor took care of feeding Sumo, and the fluffball trailed after the android’s heels as he did so.

The post-game show was wrapping up by the time Hank shuffled back to the recliner with a sandwich and a cold soda. Connor nitpicked around the living room for a while longer, straightening up and returning the slushy ice bag to the freezer.

“Connor, sit down. You should still be taking it easy,” Hank grumbled, flipping through the channels for something new to watch.

Connor paused where he’d been organizing the papers on the coffee table. “I have fully recovered, Hank. I don’t require any additional healing time.”

“Well…sit down anyway.” Hank took a bite of the sandwich. “It’s been a Hell of a day.”

“Agreed.” Connor compliantly sat on the couch. “Seeing Sofie and her father upset you?”

Hank bristled and continued to flip channels. “Drop it, kid.”

“Dropped.” Connor turned his eyes to the screen.

The television menu was buffering slightly, not responding as quickly to Hank’s manic button mashing on the remote. It was like it was fighting him or…

Connor’s LED spun one lightning fast yellow cycle, but Hank spotted him. Hank lowered the remote and stared suspiciously at him. Connor never had any suggestions for watching TV, and he absolutely never interrupted whenever Hank was searching for something to watch.

Whatever. Hank gave up and dropped the remote on the side table, reclining in the chair and ready for whatever documentary on paper mills or program on beehives the android would inevitably pick…

He did not expect for the channel to land on a shot of Nakatomi Tower. He choked on his sandwich for a second and then swallowed the bite, looking incredulously to Connor.

“Seriously?”

Connor smirked and shrugged, sitting back into the couch cushions. “I’ve never seen it. I’d like to see what all the fuss is about.”

Hank snorted and got more comfortable as well. He hadn’t watched Die Hard in years. He lifted his soda toward Connor in an approving toast.

“Well, yippee ki yay, motherfucker.”


End file.
